Best Colours For Your Portrait

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This is a work of fiction. Few scenes in the book are improvised from the movie 'Portrait of a lady on Fire'.

Written for Bottom Louis Fic Fest

Firstly, I want to thank my friends Adiba and Essie for being the best betas and helping me a lot in many ways. Secondly, thanks to Essie again for her brilliant assistance in making the beautiful moodboard. Finally thanks to my friend Tanellia for being there for me throughout the time I was writing this fic.

Warning: very brief mention of suicide.

Prompt 437: A Portrait of a Lady on Fire Larry AU but with a happy ending. Can be ABO/non-ABO. Writer's wish.

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"Sir, we can't take this large box, sorry," The boatman apologizes before pushing his boat off the deck towards the water with three passengers on board. Harry sighs and sprints off under a tree again waiting for another boat.

It is windy and cloudy. Small droplets of rain touch his wooden box as he takes shelter under the tree. He can feel a huge storm coming as the wind gushes violently against his coat. He wants nothing more than to reach the island on the other side.

At times like this, he doesn't understand rich people. An isolated island where he has to make a portrait of a young lad. And overall, he will be paid triple the price if they like his portrait.

Harry is confident about his artistic ability. He's sublimely known in the artistic world. He wants to make it huge someday when one of his arts is hung in a gallery for the rich people to bid on his creations. It's not the alpha in his head, he tells himself. He firmly believes he is great in his line of work. He has made portraits of many rich people and has made a name for himself.

But still, no one paid him much attention to pay TRIPLE the amount.

Upon noticing another boat resting against the dock, Harry quickly gets up on his feet, slings the big wooden box on his back, wraps his hand around his bag of essentials and runs towards the boat before other people can claim their place.

Before the boatman can stop him he steps up onto the boat, takes hurried steps towards the end of the boat, puts his box down with a huff and places the bag next to him. The boatman gives him an annoyed look but he doesn't reciprocate as he makes himself comfortable.

Only two more people can get on the small boat. The boatman starts sailing and the waves hit stronger than ever. Harry wraps his coat tightly around himself and turns back to stare at the isolated island. There's a small cottage owned by the Tomlinsons. It's too far for Harry to see it.

Thunder roars and rain starts pouring down heavily. It'll take Harry at most an hour to cross the sea to that island. He groans as the boat tumbles up and down with the gust of turbulent waves. He puts his hands down protectively on the wooden box and hisses in the cold when his coat blows away along with the wind.

Harry moves his hand to pull his coat tightly around his body. He warms himself up a bit by rubbing his arms furiously. The waves hit again strongly this time and the boat tumbles back like paper against the water. At the sensation of being swept off the boat Harry quickly grabs the edge of the boat.

But in the meantime, his wooden box jumps off the boat in the water when another wave hits.

Looking at the boatman Harry can sense his pitiful eyes on him. Harry stands up, removes his coat and dives into the cold water. He swims towards his box and grabs on the edge of it before resting his head on it.